To Forgive
by Terra Ashgrove
Summary: "I remember a time where we were all happy, and we were a family…" A story of how a broken bond can become whole again
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is NOT meant to be historically acurate! Remember that! I do not own Hetalia, but I did design the character for Wales.

_I remember a time where we were all happy, and we were a family…_

I was a happy little country at the time of my birth. I had two older brothers who were a little rough, but meant well. Our mother, Britannia was a loving mother to us in our little kingdoms, but then an encounter changed the fate of everything forever. She one day came to us with a small boy in her arms and said to us "Boys, this is your new little brother. Treat him well; after all, he is family." Scotland looked like he wanted to give the little boy an initiation pinch, but since our mother seemed fond of him, he probably wouldn't. After all, Scotland respected his mother.

After a few days, the new addition to the family, who became named England came to me and asked "Bwothew? Can you show me how to be a nation?" His green eyes stared intently into mine. I sigh and nod. I knew he spoke a different dialect than mine and I tried learning it a bit, it's very broken, but Mother says I'm doing well considering I've been learning for only a couple weeks.

As I showed him the basics, he noticed my stray curl fluttering in the breeze. He quickly snatched it and tugged. "No! Gwisga t dynnu a!" I cried out in my native tongue. Somewhere, I heard Scotland laughing. England looked at me with a confused look. I smile weakly and say "Please don't touch that. It hurts." Better than the truth. The small boy looked hurt and mumbled an apology. I pat his head and sigh. "It's okay." I said with a small smile.

As the years went on, England and I seemed to grow more apart than together. I lived in between Scotland and England, and they always wanted me to take sides. I just sat back and watched them fight it out and come to me ranting about how the other is unfair. If it were up to me, I'd just hit them upside the head and tell them to apologize. But that would take a long time, because they were both very thick headed. Soon, England finally gained an upper hand on Scotland and conquered him with the help of already conquered Ireland. Since I lived closer to Ireland, he would tell me how bad things were getting and how I would have to prepare for a battle. I doubted England would do that, but then Ireland told me something.

"Wales! Don't underestimate him! That cost me my home!"

Ireland's prediction one day came true. One of England's messengers came to my house and told me that England wanted Wales handed over peacefully. I told him "Piss off! 'ch re jyst yn celwyddo." And to my horror, coming out of the carriage that the messenger arrived in was my little brother, who had grown up faster than I expected. I was older, but he was certainly taller. England stared at me for a little bit, before a small sigh escaped his lips. "Wales, I don't want this to come to bloodshed. But if you don't come quietly, I will bring you down by force." He said calmly. The look in his once happy green eyes were cold. When did that happen?

"Ad 'm ar ei ben ei hun , Lloegr. Gwisga t angen at anafa 'ch." I told him coldly. England didn't take kindly to that. He whispered something into the messenger's ear and the messenger hit me in the head with the scabbard of his sword and the force made me fall to the ground. "I'm sorry, Wales. I couldn't understand you through that filth you call a language. You will only speak English around me. Understood?" England said coldly. The two then left me to think about coming peacefully. When the next messenger came without England, I attacked him and beat him to near death before giving him a note in England's precious language and told him to give it to him. Soon, the Welsh and English soldiers came together on the battlefield and attacked. After a couple years of fighting, the English won and brought the beaten Welshman to England to sum up his punishment.

I woke up with Scotland scowling down at me. "You moron! What makes you think your puny army could've won against him if _**I**_ couldn't win?" he asked angrily. I looked around and realized I was at England's house. I sighed and mumbled in Welsh under my breath. "That's not gonna save you now, you moron. Now you'll be his servant too!" he said with a frown. I figured that Scotland is facing the same fate as I. Soon, England came in in those fancy clothes of his and smiled proudly. "Nice try, Wales. You should've come peacefully, and then you wouldn't have to be under my command like this." He said simply. I growled a little and mumbled in Welsh once again. "Oh, and you'll have to stop that. English is the only thing spoken here, right Scotland?" England added. Scotland nodded and said "Yes." He didn't seem too proud of it either.

After a few years of quiet servitude, I learned that people easily mistook me for England. Seems we shared a lot of the same features, but my gold hair was much shaggier than his own. And I also had that curl that people mocked me for once they found that lazy Italians had them too. That was one of the few things that tore us away from being the same. But it soon became too much of a bother that I looked like England, or scolded too much that I raged and couldn't take this anymore. Scotland had done this a few times since my stay, but I genuinely couldn't take this.

It took several guards to hold me down and bring me to England who was looking very displeased with his tea in hand. "You know, you used to be my favorite brother." He said simply. "But I guess I have to punish you, and I've been planning a good one since I knew it was a matter of time. Scotland's punishments wouldn't be enough for you, because I want to keep you in line." He added. I frowned and struggled in the grasp of the guards. "Bring him to France's house and let him do whatever he wants to him." England ordered. The guards grabbed me and dragged me off as a folded up piece of parchment fell out of my pocket. I was long gone by the time that England had found it. Most of it was illegible, but the clearest things there was:

"I just want to forgive my little brother again."

_To be continued…_

Translations:

No! Gwisga t dynnu a!-No! Don't pull that!

Piss off! 'ch re jyst yn celwyddo. – Piss off! You're just lying.

Ad 'm ar ei ben ei hun , Lloegr. Gwisga t angen at anafa 'ch.- Leave me alone, England. I don't want to hurt you


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Sorry for the long wait! I'm going to update as many of my fanfics as soon as possible! Please bear with me as I work, especially with college starting soon. That and I may be snowed in tomorrow anyways with nothing to do. ; u ;

Onto the fic~

England looked at the paper in awe. At first, all he could think was _When did Wales learn to write in English?_ Then he realized that there was more to this than he thought. He took some time to think it over as he had his servants work around him. A lot of tea was consumed and a lot of thought was in order. After a year, he figured he could pick Wales up now so they could talk and maybe he'd be in better line. After sending a letter, then a quick ship and a carriage ride to France's house, England reluctantly knocked on the door. Then opening the door was Wales in a maid's dress. Green eyes intensified with rage as he quickly closed the door in England's face.

Soon, the door opened again and this time, France opened the door. "I'm sorry, Angleterre. Your brother has become increasingly angry since the letter you sent to tell me you were coming to pick him up. I honestly wish you didn't have to, because he's been such a good boy, and all I can see is you in his features." England sighed and shook his head. He did allow France to do as he wished with Wales, and he probably did. Especially with how he was talking about Wales.

"Just give Wales back… in normal clothing, if you don't mind." England said with a sigh. After an hour, Wales came down with whatever he had brought and in normal clothes. All he did was walk past England and into the carriage he had obviously come in. England was starting to feel worse about his decision on sending him to France. As he left, he heard "Adieu! You two are allowed back anytime!" That made England shudder before he climbed into the carriage and it was off.

After a little while of silence, England pulled out the parchment that Wales had written and held it out for him to take. Wales looked over at him with surprise. "Wales, I'm sorry for sending you to that god awful place. I honestly didn't know."

"'ch wouldn't , 'ch re na dendio darllenwr."

"What? I can't understand you."

"I said you wouldn't know since you're not a bloody mind reader!" Wales said with a raised voice. England sighed and said "I guess I had that coming." Wales just took the parchment in his outstretched hand and stuffed it in his pocket. And things went silent again.

Soon, they reached the port where the ship England came on was docked. And it was obvious which ship since it had the flag with St. George's Cross. The two walked onto the ship. Once all the provisions were made sure, the ship then sailed off. Wales stayed on the deck while England was continuing his thinking in his own quarters. How could he make this up to him?

And that's it for now, because I'm tired! :D

Translation:

'ch wouldn't , 'ch re na dendio darllenwr.= You wouldn't, you're not a mind reader.


End file.
